Forgive My Broken Heart
by OfStringsAndIvory
Summary: Torn by betrayal, Edward Cullen and Bella Swan find themselves estranged. Years later following her suicide, Edward becomes immersed in Bella's world that was captured in her diaries during his absence. With them can he forgive, or will he remain haunted?
1. Prologue

There was a hum of life in the warm air of the coffee shop. All around her friends and more than friends sat together, seeking refuge from the bitter cold of winter in hot drinks, sweet treats and a cranked up heater.

_All except for me, _she thought, tugging uncomfortably at the ends of her formal attire.

_This isn't right, being dressed up, especially considering who I am meeting. We were never formal, just completely casual. That's who we are, right? Two completely casual people?_

_ Were, _a powerful voice corrected her strictly. _You were two completely casual people, just like you were friends. I guess you changed that one, too._

She tried to control the spasm of pain that was sure to flash across her face as she argued with herself. "Speaking to voices inside my head?" she muttered darkly, "Looks like I just skipped over all the other symptoms of mania."

"Bella?" a voice pulled her out of her reverie. It bought a rush of memories flooding through her mind as she struggled to hold back the emotions that threatened to spill over; it made her heart dance and soul sing at the smooth and even tones of its tenor.

_Stop, _the commanding voice told her. _The music was too high of a cost for you._

She swallowed back the pain and bitterness, standing from her seat and flashing him a weak smile. "Edward," she answered, working to make her voice sound light and happy rather than thick with sorrow.

The girl named Bella honestly didn't expect him to hug her – it was an act of affection she had received so rarely before – but it didn't mean there was no pain as he awkwardly extended his hand for her to shake. She did so halfheartedly, praying to whatever God that created this universe that he wouldn't notice how much hers was shaking. Despite the odd and unfamiliar greeting, his skin on hers still gave her tingles.

The two sat as a loud silence engulfed them. Both agreed to meet up in this coffee shop, but neither had a clue as to what to talk about. They just stayed there, avoiding one another's gaze like it could kill them and listening to the clanks and clatters of the bistro.

"How's college? You're a freshman, right?" Edward asked, knowing full well that's what grade level she would be in at this point. It was like high school all over again for them – the freshman and the sophomore.

"Yes, but I had enough credit to skip over to my sophomore year," she told him, a little bit of pride seeping into her tone, although she felt anguish as well. Secretly, she had hoped he would keep tabs on her – that is what she did to him, after all.

"You always were a smart one, Bella," he smiled, looking at the girl in front of him and searching desperately for signs of the one he used to know. It was so hard, though. She changed, had grown from the awkward stages of a teenager into a more mature adult. A glimmer caught his eye and he looked down to see what it was attracting the light; relief flooded through him as he realized it was her purity ring, the one she received so much hell for wearing in high school.

_Glad to know some things never change, _he thought.

"Academically, yes, but when it comes to life…" she trailed off. They both knew what it was she was implying.

"How have things been for you?" her voice cracked as she asked a question she swore she wouldn't. It had been an unspoken agreement over that email, that they would avoid any conversation about their fall out, one that she just went and broke.

_Just like all your promises. Just like his trust, _the voice chirped.

No reply was given. Bella looked into his eyes, searching his gaze, but nothing was revealed. His eyes, once warm and beautiful and inviting, had cooled down and held nothing for her. No emotion, no light, nothing. There was a chain on the door to his mind.

_And you know exactly why, _the hard voice turned mocking.

He wasn't ready, and never would be, to talk about it. What had happened had caused them to drift apart.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I don't think this was the best idea for us to meet up here," Xander looked away as he said this. No need to watch as the broken girl in front of him fell even farther to pieces.

He got up to leave when he heard a small but forceful, "Wait!"

Edward turned to stare at Bella expectantly, waiting for what it was that needed to be said. She returned the gaze, unsure of what exactly her next move would be.

_Actions speak louder than words._

With purposeful strides, she closed the distance in between them, and in a bold moment of decision she did the most daring thing she'd ever done.

Square on the mouth, she kissed him.

Bella poured everything she had into that kiss. All the pain, the anger, the regret she held inside the past two and a half years; the love that she held for him, the love that never left, the desire to make him hers, the need for his touch – it was all present in this act of affection.

Edward's arms wrapped around her torso and they held her there in vices. He felt her long fingers tangle into his short hair, gripping at whatever she could hold. Their mouths moved in synchronization, almost as if it were a dance, as a melody in the background tugged elusively at strings of both their memories.

It was every kind of hell, their kiss, but they burned peacefully, finding solace in each other for the first time since _it_ happened.

All too soon they pulled away, breathing heavily into each other's arms.

"I love you, Edward. I've never stopped," her voice melded with the silence. For the first time in years she felt close to whole.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Edward's gentle lips against her forehead. She closed her eyes to relish the feeling of completeness.

"You know it has never been the same for me," his warm breath fanned against her skin as he pulled back, looking down at her.

And it was then she was completely broken.

Bella looked into his eyes once more, seeing a passage way to the intricacies of his mind. They had melted once again, allowing her to decipher his thoughts and feelings. She saw a man who was haunted and broken – _was it I who did that to him? – _who needed to be set free. But she also saw a light in him, the one that was always there, shining dimly, fighting against the darkness to not be put out. She saw someone who had a future, who would do great things in life – not someone who should be tied down by a broken girl.

The resolve hit her with full force.

Turning away, Bella gathered her belongings, knowing full well it's him she wants to be holding in her arms. On a whim, with her back still facing him, she placed an item near her coffee cup on the table, hoping he'd find it eventually.

Looking back at him once more, her heart crumbled. The words that followed wouldn't be able to haunt her.

"Goodbye, Edward," she all but whispered. It was so low he almost didn't hear it, but the words registered in his head. If he knew the double meaning behind them, he never let it show.

And so she walked out of the coffee shop, out of his life.

_And hopefully out of his mind, _she thought.

The wind and cold was unrepentant, but she didn't notice it biting at her cheeks. She didn't feel a thing. The world blurred passed her as tears filled her eyes and spilled over, freezing on her face. Despite her expression of pain and sorrow, there was no emotion inside of her. It was a beautiful emptiness, nothing like the void she felt when Edward left.

Her mind was made up. Nothing could stop her. Even her voice of reason was silenced, knowing that this girl was too far gone to be swayed.

All the memories played themselves back in her mind, starting in the beginning when she and Edward were bought together on a cold winter night much like this. It morphed into the spring when the ice was thawed, and the two were closer than ever, a duo that just could not be split. Temperatures rose, as did her feelings and dependency on him, and slowly the strong foundation of their friendship crumbled beneath her betrayal and lies. And in the fall…it all fell down.

Nine months. Nine months was all it took for Bella to gain and lose the best she never had.

She saw the results of their fall out once more, relived it as if it were actually happening. No one on the street knew what Bella was seeing, what was going through her head – she was off in her own world, watching herself on those long days and even longer nights. She saw the break downs and tears, the loss of reality; she saw the moment in which eight weeks and three days of keeping herself clean went to waste in her weakness; she saw the scars from the blade that carved her and Edward's lives apart; she saw the nights spent lying in bed, talking to air as she pretended it was him lying next to her, her last shreds of hope dissolving throughout her descent into insanity.

The memories she fought so hard to hold back no longer hurt. She allowed herself to find comfort in watching their story play back in her mind, but when it faded out of view – faded like the girl who lived it – she focused on his face. The way his smile lifted up his cheeks and crinkled his eyes, his prominent cheek bones and squared jaw, the eye brows and nose that met so perfectly… Bella had the urge to reach up into the air and trace the lines and contours that seemed so real at that moment. It was a familiar urge, one she felt many times before when around him, to just touch his face. She wanted to know he was real, that someone so perfectly imperfect and beautiful could really be gracing her presence with his.

_But he's not here._

Her pace quickened at the thought and her apartment loomed into view. It was only a few hundred more feet until she met her destiny, and there was no turning back. A little bit of relief trickled into her heart at the prospect of it all being over soon. A swipe against the snowy fields of her skin, a swallow from an orange bottle washed down with a swig…

_Yes, there would be an ending to this story very soon._

She walked up the steps, somehow managing to appear calm, and as she reached for her keys she uttered her last words, words that were carried by the wind.

They travelled through the air of the busy city, passing but never stopping by its inhabitants. It kept going until it reached a man in a little coffee shop nine blocks away. He was standing there, staring at the spot in which he was left, trying to understand the feelings tugging at his heart. A glimmering object caught his eye, purposefully set by an untouched cup of coffee. He picked it up and nearly screamed when he realized what it was.

In his hand he held the silver purity ring of Bella, slowly but surely losing its warmth from her skin. It finally clicked, her last words to him, and that final encounter replayed in his mind.

_"Good bye, Edward."_

_ Good bye._

_ Good bye._

_ Good bye._

He was rooted in place, tormented by his indecision and fear, watching helplessly as she walked out again and again. There was nothing he could do, she walked away, and he didn't go after her. He left her. He promised he'd never leave but he did. It was her fault, they both knew, for the fall out, but he didn't want for things to end like this.

His throat tightened around itself as tears stung at his eyes. The world darkened considerably as he finally understood what the past two and a half years must've been like for Bella.

Lashing against his soul and pounding throughout his head, Edward's thoughts echoed the last words of Bella:

_Wisdom isn't worth the pain._


	2. Chapter One

**Forgive me now, because this is an A/N at the beginning of the chapter. Under normal circumstances I would do this at the end, but there are a few things I want to take note of (no pun intended) before I continue with this story.  
>It started out with just the prologue, a way of release, because Bella's and Edward's story reflects to an extent a failed friendship of mine that has really hurt me. It is for the most part fiction, but their personalities are identifiable with me and my Edward, and some of Bella's background follows my life.<br>I never meant to make a story out of this, and never intended for it to be Twilight FanFiction, but that's what it has become, so I hope you enjoy my creative outlet.  
>WARNING: This story mentions drug abuse, homosexuality, self-harm, sac religion, eating disorders, and other mental illnesses. If you take a personal offense to those, please by all means do not read this story.<strong>

He ran. It was all he could do. Air pushed roughly through his lungs, his throat constricting as he was in a race against time, praying to God that he'd beat his fears – and hoping God was listening.

His heart was heavy, making every beat more painful, more pronounced, more difficult than the last. He heard it in his ears, mocking with the dripping irony of the situation: the faster Edward's heart was beating meant Bella's was going even slower.

"Damn it!" he screamed, all of his drive exiting his body as the onslaught of pain hit him with full force. He was too late, he knew it deep down. She had done it, she had lost all hope. He couldn't do it.

"God _damn it! _I tried…I tried so hard!" his shouts were coming out hoarsely, cracking with the emotion that was blocking his throat. Some turned and stared at the hopeless, troubled man losing his grip on reality while others looked on, not caring.

_Is this how she felt? Overlooked? _His thoughts echoed in his head as the tears poured down his face, freezing before they could hit the ground.

Edward picked himself up once more, pushing harder than before to try to reach her, or at least be the one to discover her… He couldn't bring himself to complete the thought that tore through his being.

"You won't be overlooked. I won't overlook you. I won't let anyone overlook you. I will save you," he whispered under his breath, urging for his words to be carried to her, wishing desperately that for once Bella was listening.

Every muscle in his body was pushed to the limit as he sprinted the last 100 yards to her house. Arriving at the stairs, Edward took them two at a time, exhaustion tempting him to collapse. The front door was locked.

"Fuck!" he screamed, pouring every ounce of frustration into a swift punch to the door. His eyes drifted towards the window a few feet to his right that was connected to her home.

"If I'm wrong about this, Bella is going to be pissed at me for breaking into her apartment," he muttered to himself dryly, hoping to face the wrath of the girl that his heart is aching over.

Edward took a small potted plant off of the window sill of Bella's neighboring apartment and flung it at the window, the shattering echoing in his mind. No attention was drawn to him surprisingly, and so he carefully maneuvered himself through the broken shards of glass still in the window frame.

"Bella!" he yelled once inside what he assumed was a guest bedroom; it was barren and void, nothing special to it – almost clinical in a way. Nothing struck his eye as he pushed himself through the obstacles of bleak, inexpensive furniture.

"Bella, where are you?" he yelled into the quiet apartment as he made his way into the living/dining area. "Answer me if you hear me, Bella!"

In his peripheral vision, he saw light seeping from beneath a closed door. Shaking with nerves and fear, he walked to it, afraid of what he would find behind the barrier to Bella's fate, but knowing deep down what would be waiting for him. With a heart weighed down by stress and burden, he reached out his hand and turned the door knob, bracing himself with the fear and anxiety consuming his being.

_This is _definitely _Bella's room, _he thought to himself, a smile ghosting his lips, an anomaly in comparison to the situation at hand.

The bed spread – a midnight blue that contrasted starkly with the blindingly white sheets – was rumbled and unmade; knowing Bella, it never had been made. It sat in the middle of the room, and to the left of it was a walk in closet, the door slightly ajar, and another door that led to what he could imagine was a bathroom. Directly to the right of the bed sat a dark, mahogany nightstand with a well-used candle, vintage green alarm clock, and photo frame donning it. There was another window with the blinds drawn tightly shut and a dresser that matched the nightstand, intricately carved roses decorating it. What looked to be text books and school work were scattered across the top, and a brown leather lap top bag was hanging from the top right dresser drawer knob.

Taking it all in, a few random articles of clothing strewn at the foot of the unmade bed caught Edward's eye. He walked towards them, inspecting the outfit.

Time stopped.

In his hand he was holding the denim jacket– favorite denim jacket– of Isabella Swan. The same favorite denim jacket of Bella's that Edward first truly saw her in; the same favorite denim jacket that was her signature item throughout high school; the same favorite denim jacket that she was wearing today.

Edward desperately tried to reason with himself, tried to convince himself that it was merely a coincidence, but the much too formal dress and knit cap and scarf that she had been wearing was there too, along with the leggings and horrific boots that were considered "en vogue" today.

And beneath the messy pile of her worn clothing was a small but significant puddle of blood. The slightly metallic smell filtered through his system as his vision became blurred once more by tears of anger and remorse.

"_Isabella!"_The strangled sob for his used to be best friend ripped through his chest, reverberating throughout the tiny apartment of hers, and somewhere within was a muffled moan in response.

His ears perked up as he searched out the direction the noise came from. It was somewhere in Bella's room, and near the night stand he saw another door.

Taking cautious and calculated steps he walked towards the door. The creaking sound it made as its hinges were set in motion was resounding, and he held his breath for what felt like and infinite amount of time.

Blindly groping the wall, his hand found the light switch that illuminated what appeared to be the bathroom. He took note of the trail of fresh blood on the tiled floors, and he felt himself near hyperventilation. Before the panic attack consumed him completely, he saw another door – one suited for a closet – and couldn't help but escape to a memory with Bella; one of his last good memories with her.

"_And this," Edward said, pausing as if to raise the suspense during the climax of a novel, "is the last stop on your tour of the Cullen Casa – my room! AKA, The Love Shack." He wiggled his eyebrows up and down devilishly as Bella tilted her head back in laughter._

"_Does the 'Love Shack' happen to have a bathroom? 'Cause I got to go!" she responded humorously, although quite serious about her declaration – she needed to pee._

"_Oh, of course! The door on the right is the bathroom…don't stink it up, Swan!" Edward said, teasing her._

"_Oh, silly Edward, don't you know girls don't poop?" Bella giggled manically at the expression on his face as she danced off into the bathroom._

_While washing her hands she took note of the door that led to his closet, intending to mention it to him – it was one of her quirks, but she always saw it as an interior design flaw._

"_Your bathroom is weird," was Bella's statement as she emerged from it, finality coloring her tone. "It has your closet in it."_

_Edward stared at the too tall, too thin girl standing in front of him quizzically for a moment before he burst into laughter._

That had been the summer before her sophomore year and his junior year. It also happened to be the summer of the fall out.

He stumbled out of his flash back and yanked wildly at the door, his motions uncontrolled and erratic as he turned on yet another light. Everything in him had been sped up and emotion driven until he saw what was on the ground.

His body went limp and he fell forwards, reaching out for a barely alive Bella. She had changed into sweat pants and a tee shirt, her hair now pulled back; on her labored breath were the smell of alcohol and the very slight scent of cough medicine of some sort. Pooling out of her in large and lethal amounts was blood – her blood that was smeared on her arms, coming from the multiple and deep gashes on her wrists.

"Bella…" he whispered, wishing to breathe life into her but knowing nothing could save her. He just held her in his arms, allowing her last breaths to be in the one place she always swore was meant for her to be.

Her bones were sharp and defined, and he knew beneath her clothes he'd see something skeletal – the anger and pain took a swing; her eyes were fluttering though closed, and he knew they'd never open again – and another; her chest was barely moving and her skin was growing colder – he was almost beaten down.

One last time though, just one last time, her eyes flashed open. It was a fight, Edward could tell, but he saw the queer golden brown hue that was once so familiar to his vision, and in them he could see a fading light, a lost fight, and a growing peace.

"Sleep now, Bella, I won't leave you until you are under," he whispered musically, not letting go of her for a second, rather tightening his grip.

Her eyes moved towards a corner, but then closed again, and he just stayed staring.

Minutes passed as he held her, her ragged breaths never escaping Bella's lips. Edward laid Bella down on the ground, pressing his lips to her forehead as he had earlier. A few tears escaped as he told her, "I wish things could have been different."

With shaky hands he reached into his pocket, preparing for the painful call he had to make to 911, when his eyes were caught by the corner Bella had looked to before her eyes closed for the final time.

There was a stack of journals, some artistic and scholarly looking while others were like the plain spiral bound ones used in school, and on top of them sat an envelope.

Scrawled across it in the peculiar font that was all Bella's own were two words:

_For Edward._

**Okay, another A/N! This is where the chapter will end. It was a little bit shorter than the prologue, but I'm going to try to ensure that all of them are at least over 1500 words. (So far I've made good on this goal.)  
>As far as updates go, I will be doing them as frequently as I can – luckily I'm off of school until January 3<strong>**rd****, but I also have a lot to do still school wise. I will promise that there will always be one chapter per week, but I aim for three if I can.  
>So did you cry reading this? I cried writing it, that's for sure!<strong>


	3. Chapter Two

Edward stared at the journals and envelope, phone still in hand and ready to call 911. His mind was reeling as he wondered what was inside – a suicide note perhaps. And why on earth was Bella Swan giving him seven journals? What could he possibly do with them?

"What do I do in a situation like this?" he wondered aloud. Couldn't these be used as evidence? The police might need them while investigating her suicide…

"But what if there's something about me in them?"

His desire to know and urge to hide his part in Bella's past from strangers overtook him, and he swept them up in his arms. Looking around the closet for anything to put them in, he noticed a black back pack with a Nike symbol on it – it looked familiar to him, and soon dawned on him as to why.

_A clatter of objects falling to the ground and a frustrated scream soon following after was heard on the drill pad in front of the ROTC building. Edward halted, as he had assumed he was all alone. Looking around, he saw a girl he recognized as Bella Swan on her knees and gathering books and papers into her arms._

_ "Is everything okay?" Edward called out as he approached her. She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, and then quickly looked down, a blush crawling onto her cheeks._

_ Edward Cullen was the ROTC golden boy – attractive, fit, intelligent, and by far the best armed driller and cadet in the whole battalion. Even if he was only a sophomore, _nobody_ messed with him. Bella Swan, a new cadet, heard so much about him, and word on the street was she was like the female Edward. People were expecting big things from her in ROTC, which was why she felt so humiliated being caught breaking down by him of all people._

_ "I'm fine," she told him inaudibly, "just having a book bag malfunction." Her eyes shifted over to the well-used purple back pack that now had a big gaping hole in the bottom._

_ Edward bent down, helping her pick up and organize the rest of her materials still scattered about. "I don't think that's the only reason why you're crying," he whispered._

_ Bella was stunned for a moment, just staring into his shockingly green eyes. They looked sincere and caring, probing for more information. She uncomfortably pulled her sleeve down, and then haughtily replied, "Maybe it's not but I don't see why it matters."_

_ Edward was taken aback by the response – he never spoke to the girl directly, but Bella was said to be kind, and while she was outgoing and demanded respect, she was never unnecessarily rude. Confused by why it was bothering him so much, he looked down at the journal in his hands._

_ "This is yours, I believe," he mumbled lamely, extending it to her._

_ Her eyes widened in shock to see what he was holding and she snatched it from him hastily, holding it close to her chest._

_ "Uhmm…are you sure everything is okay?" he asked, concern truly taking up his emotions. Something was off here, she was not acting like the stellar cadet she was made up to be._

_ "It doesn't really matter. But thank you. For helping me out, I mean." Bella said the words sincerely, feeling guilty for how she had treated him when he was just being nice._

_ "Any time. And here," he reached around, removing his back pack from its place on his back and emptying it of its academic contents, "Take mine."_

_ She stared at the object in his hands in wonder, growing curious about the boy in front of her. "I couldn't take your bag. Don't you need it?"_

_ "It's from last year, and I have a new one at home. Besides, I'm going to be leaving school early today so it's not like it'll be a big deal for me to carry my stuff around – I'll just be able to work on my muscles," Edward assured her, shoving the offering into her lap and adding a wink at the end._

_ Dazed by his behavior, Bella gingerly placed the notebook she reacted so strangely to earlier by her knees and placed her books and papers into the bag._

_ "Thank you. Would you like me to bring it back tomorrow?" she asked softly._

_ "No, do not worry about it! It's yours to keep," he told her, taking her hand that was shockingly cold and helping her up._

_ "Okay, well thank you again. I'll see you around, Edward."_

_ "Yeah, see ya, Bella."_

That had been Edward's first encounter with Bella Swan. Yes, he had seen her in the mornings for PT and during the unarmed drill practices, but he never paid any mind. She was just some freshman girl, and although at the time everyone expected her to be some hot shot cadet, she was also bubbly and loud and a _freshman_, just adding into the mix of why he never intended to befriend her.

Of course, that day changed everything. He had seen a side of Bella Swan that he didn't think many knew was there. Of course, it was just a matter of luck, as he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time (or maybe the right place at the right time) and witnessed her unguarded, but there was something about her that made him feel obligated to talk to her.

It took him a while to do it, but he did eventually talk to and befriend his own personal mystery, all because of the back pack in his hands.

He stared at it, questioning if that day was a blessing or a curse, then moved down, placing the journals and the note in it. Reaching for his phone once more that now laid on the ground, he dialed the three numbers, his heart heavy in his chest.

"911, what's the emergency?"

"The Redbrick Apartments on Hollowed Oak Street, number 203. The inhabitant has committed suicide," Edward said slowly, as if testing the words to see how they tasted on his tongue.

They were like vinegar.

Shocked, the operator asked for some details, then dispatched officers and EMS.

"Take care, sweetie," she told him, obviously concerned. Edward's currently stoic heart warmed some, as he was reminded by this lady of the former school secretary Mrs. Cope. He hung up, holding Bella's lifeless hand and waiting for the police to arrive.

_I failed you, Bella, and I'm sorry._

**_ *Time Lapse*_**

"So why were you the one to discover Isabella Swan?" the official looking investigator named Sam asked.

"Bella," Edward corrected him automatically.

"Pardon?" he looked taken aback by that response and searched Edward's broken and torn eyes for answers.

_This guy is a wreck, the poor kid. He can't be more than 20 years old…and the poor girl. So beautiful, attending college out of state – I hate getting calls like this, _Sam thought with sincerity, his heart breaking at the situation.

"She prefers…preferred…to be called Bella. And we met up for coffee today, before it happened…" Edward trailed off, thinking back to all the things he wish he had done differently during that exchange, wishing he hadn't emailed her at all.

"Did something happen that acted as a catalyst to this?"

Edward's eyes burned with such intensity and pain when Sam asked the question. Yes, something did happen – Bella was let down. Her heart took its final beating. She lost her will to live. She kissed him, and it was the best kiss of his life, but Edward's head told him it wasn't right.

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

Edward still did not respond, only clenching his hands into fists and shutting his eyes against the tears. A blind man could've seen the pain he was in.

"Did you love her, Edward?" Sam asked softly, understanding what it was he was going through.

_Yes._

"I care about her," he responded brokenly, no longer fighting the tears, but letting them plunge off of his face and into his shaking hands.

"Edward, I am not going to ask for details as I can see this is hurting you, but if you ever need to talk – not as a confident in Bella's case but just to let it out – you can always look me up in the phone book. Believe it or not, I know what you're going through. But for now, go home, wash up, take a nap – we'll make the necessary phone calls."

Edward smiled at Sam's kindness although the emotions in his eyes contradicted it.

"Thank you, Sam, I'm glad you're the detective on this case."

"Of course, but one more thing – what's in the bag?" Sam asked. It was protocol to know these things, and could have to possibly be confiscated as evidence.

"Bella's journals – they were in the closet when…" he didn't complete that thought. "There was an envelope that was addressed to me. I honestly don't know if I am going to read them or not or why they were left for me, but she wanted me to have them. Bella has her reasoning, and knowing her it's probably strange and backwards and will make no sense whatsoever, but she'll try to explain it anyways. She always does," Edward smiled fondly at his description of the quirky girl.

_The one who is dead now, Edward._

He visibly grimaced, and Sam noticed. He should be taking them from Edward, at least for now, but somehow he knew that what was in there was too personal and only meant for the eyes of Bella and Edward. He could sense there was a story behind the pair, and it was not his job to intrude.

_If Edward ever decides to divulge their secrets about their relationship, whatever they may be, that's his decision to make. I only hope he's okay, _Sam thought, truly concerned about this. He knew he shouldn't be, but he felt such a connection with the kid. After what happened with Leah…

Sam knew what Edward was going to need to move on, and reading those journals on his own time was one of them. Whatever was in there was going to hurt him, but in the long run heal whatever wounds he's tending.

"Take a break for a while, kid. You need some time, okay? And seriously, man, don't be afraid to look me up. I know what you're going through, and I also know a good therapist if you ever need one."

Edward looked at the man in front of him, sensing he was telling the truth when he said he knew what he was going through. His curiosity peaked a little bit, but he was too emotionally drained to give it further thought.

"Thank you again, Sam. I might take you up on that offer. Uhmm, can you please tell her parents to give me a call sometime? I want to be able to help with the funeral arrangements… And also let them know I'll make the calls to the gang – they'll know what I'm talking about."

Sam internally shook his head at his request, knowing Edward was going to mask his pain for the time being to help everyone else.

_He really doesn't deserve this at all. _

"Will do, Edward. Take care," Sam assured him, watching as he walked out the door.

Edward had the bag slung over one shoulder as he trudged back to the coffee shop to find his car. He barely noticed the cold or the rest of the world around him, only focusing on the next step.

_That's what I need to do, _he thought, _focus on the next step. But I don't know where that will lead me. _

Reaching his car, he got in; setting the bag in the passenger seat, then slumped down laying his head on the wheel. He should be screaming, crying, breaking down, cussing out the world, but he wasn't. He was numb. There was a void in him, an elephant in the room, but he felt nothing.

Putting his keys in the ignition, he drove home to Forks, watching Port Angeles fade behind him, preparing himself for what he'd have to do.

Picking up his phone once on the high way, he dialed a familiar number. It rang once, twice, and half way through the third ring the wind chime voice of Bella's best friend throughout high school answered with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Alice," Edward said flatly, "is everyone in town tonight?"

"Edward? Yeah, they are – is everything okay?"

"Something has happened. I know it is short notice, but can we all meet up?"

"Okay, I'll let them all know," Alice's voice was apprehensive as she pondered what could have Edward this way. There was only one time in her life she remembered ever hearing his voice sound like that.

_Oh no._

"What time?" she asked, fervor slowly trickling into her voice.

"Seven o'clock if that's okay," he responded, hoping four hours would be enough time for him to figure out what to say.

"We'll be there," she told him, hanging up. No details were further needed then that, she knew where they'd be going.

Edward's phone dropped onto the floor and he didn't bother to pick it up. All he could think of was the golden brown eyes that would haunt his dreams tonight – and every night after that.

"Bella," he whispered to no one.

**A/N: I'm not too sure how I feel about this chapter. It is necessary to understand the history behind Bella, Edward, and their friends a bit more, as well as it is a catalyst to future event s in the story  
>Sam will play a prominent role in the story, just so you know, while other key characters such as Alice, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper will be less important (but still there).<br>What do you think?  
>Reviews aren't necessary, but much appreciated.<br>Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and Happy Holidays to everyone else!**

**PS – I'm updating quite frequently, but I don't think anyone ever really minds that. xP  
>I might be gone for a few days, though, so I'm uploading all the chapters I have now, and publishing them when I want to. I kind of felt like just publishing this one, though, as it is for the most part a filler and a way to introduce new characters.<strong>


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